


where there is life

by ohlookmywife



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:27:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlookmywife/pseuds/ohlookmywife
Relationships: Ferguphy, FreakyCigs, Joan Ferguson/Brenda Murphy, SmokoFreak, screak
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	where there is life

“You’re going to be okay,” she says, piling Ferguson into the passenger seat, laying a wool blanket across her still trembling legs, tucking it on both sides, digging in the space between the seat and the wall of the car to find the safety belt.

She’s disheveled, covered in dirt, breathing heavily, and Ferguson instinctively leans back and turns her head as Murphy leans into the car, her loosed waves brushing against Ferguson’s shoulder as she moves to secure the belt across her waist.

“I -,” Ferguson begins, starling Murphy back into the waiting car door. “I... have it… Brenda,” she says without lifting her eyes, summoning every ounce of strength to take the belt from fingers caked with earth.

She buckles the strap across her waist and raises her chin to Brenda, standing in the space of the open car door.  
“I’m okay, ” she says, averting her eyes.

Brenda nods her worried forehead and searches Joan’s face for any indication that she actually is.  
“Of course, Gover--,” she shakes her head like she’s clearing an EtchASketch, “Ma’am.”

“Joan” she corrects her, eyes ahead at the windscreen, looking at… nothing.  
She takes a labored breath, swallows with great effort and looks back at Brenda, with humble eyes.

“Thank,” her voice hitches, “you,” every bit of energy focused on avoiding Brenda’s gaze, laden with concern.  
_Pity_ , she thinks. And that she will not accept.

Brenda almost smiles, relief spreading across her face. “Of course.”

She regards Joan for another moment.

“Watch your knee,” she says, closing the passenger door and taking a moment to fumble around in the backseat before making her way to the driver’s side.

As the driver’s door comes open, Joan swallows hard - “do you have any w--“

Brenda slides behind the wheel, passing Joan a bottle of water, and turning to close the door in one fell swoop. “Did you say something?”

Joan takes the bottle. Her lips twitching, nose scrunching, as she looks down and tries to blink away the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Thank y—“

“Please. It’s no worry. Let’s get you home.”


End file.
